


Welcome to the Darker Side

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 09:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: Ray watches and wants.





	Welcome to the Darker Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowhive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowhive/gifts).



> With thanks to themoononastick for the beta <3

If pushed, Ray would admit he’s good at some things.

Okay, in some cases, better than good. He can shred like a pro, can tease out songs and melodies that demand your attention, and most important of all, he’s always a good friend. It’s something he takes pride in, that his circle of friends is wide, varied and strong.

It’s just, sometimes Ray is bad at things too. Like the Ways.

They’re two of Ray’s innermost circle. He respects them, loves them unconditionally, and there lies the problem. Because, in their case, Ray’s come to realise, he loves them ... too much. Or more accurately, sometimes loves them in the wrong way, and somehow he can’t seem to stop.

~*~*~*~

“Pass me….” Gerard makes a grabbing motion with his hand, not moving from where he’s sprawled out on the dressing room couch, legs bent over the arm and upper body twisted, his cheek pushed against Mikey’s lap. As positions go it doesn’t look comfortable, and Ray’s spine aches in sympathy as Mikey attempts to reach over Gerard for a mug that’s been left close to his feet.

“Can’t reach,” Mikey says, ineffectively twitching his fingers as he tries to bend further, squashing Gerard’s head in the process. “You’ll need to move.”

“I’m comfortable.” Gerard’s voice is muffled but the tone is still tragic and it’s no surprise at all when Gerard shifts his gaze toward Ray and says mournfully, “Ray,could you...”

Ray sighs, not that it’s an issue to get up from his own chair and pass over the coffee. It’s just, no doubt it’ll already be cold and if either Way would make any significant attempt at moving, they could reach it themselves. But of course they don’t, because they’re Ways and they’d rather remain crammed into a too-small space, Gerard keeping his head jammed against Mikey’s lap, both flailing their hands as if attempting to summon the mug via magic.

“You know, if you move you could reach it yourself,” Ray points out to Gerard, but he’s already standing, taking the few steps forward as he scoops up the mug and hands it over. “And this is cold.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Unconcerned, Gerard takes the mug and turns his head slightly, gulping down the cold coffee. Which of course, is when half spills out of his mouth, because Gerard is an idiot who’s attempting to drink at an unnatural angle.

“Fuck, Gee.” Mikey jumps a little, eyes widening as Gerard holds his arm straight and swallows before shifting so he can nuzzle the dark patch that’s spreading across the inner thighs and crotch of Mikey’s pants.

Ray stares, thinking about pointing out that paper towels exist, or that there’s a bathroom close by. Hell, that anything would be better than Gerard attempting to suck coffee from wet fabric: but there’s no point. Ray _knows_ the Ways and in their head this is a perfectly logical way to deal with the spill. Plus, there’s the more pressing point that Ray really doesn’t want this to stop.

Which is wrong and weird, but Ray can’t look away from the way Gerard is moving his mouth, his tongue momentarily flicking into view as he shifts position, helped by Mikey who’s tugging at the dry part of his pants, exposing some skin between t-shirt and belt in the process.

It’s like Ray’s personal porn show, and he needs to get out of here now. Already it’s almost too late, Ray getting turned on in a way that’s weird and not right, because these are Ray’s friends. Ray shouldn’t be throwing a boner because Gerard is nuzzling Mikey, or because Mikey’s eyes are half-lidded and he’s resting his hand on Gerard’s shoulder as Gerard licks over Mikey’s belt, his tongue momentarily moving over the studs to skin.

“I’ll just…” Abruptly, Ray starts backing away, bumping into his chair in the process, sure that his cheeks are flushing as both Ways look in his direction, seeming confused.

“Are you okay?” Lips damp and eyes wide, Gerard looks directly at Ray and lifts his arm, displaying the mug. “If you’re going for more coffee this is okay. I don’t mind if it’s cold.”

“He doesn’t,” Mikey agrees, using his thumb to stroke over the shell of Gerard’s exposed ear. “But if you’re going on a coffee hunt I’ll take a refill. I’ve got a mug somewhere.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” Ray says, still backing up and barely able to look at the Ways who’re lying boneless together. Guileless and totally unaware of the thoughts that are plaguing Ray’s brain. “I’ll get you both a new one.”

“Thanks,” Gerard says, and smiles, wide and bright as Ray almost throws himself out of the room, feeling like the worst friend ever. 

~*~*~*~

Frank yawns, exposing all of his teeth as he scrubs at his eyes with his fists. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” 

“Don’t tell me the toilet’s blocked again, we’ve got rules for a reason.” Hesitating, Ray stares at the door to the bus bathroom, debating the full state of his bladder against the possible horrors of what’s lurking inside. As choices go it’s one Ray’s faced before, and he’s debating peeing into the sink against jamming a coat hanger into the bowl to break up a log. Which Ray’s done on many occasions, it’s just, it’s too early for that literal shit.

“Not blocked, but I’d pay to see you take on Sir Logalot again,” Frank says with a grin, making a jabbing motion into empty air as if weilding an imaginary sword. “But Mikey and Gerard are in there, it’s getting kinda crowded.”

“Mikey and Gerard are in the bathroom? Together?” As situations go it’s not an impossibility, they both have to use the bathroom after all. It’s just. It’s not usually together. “What are they doing? Are they okay?”

“As okay as they ever are.” Frank shrugs and at the sound of a door opening, pushes up on his tiptoes so he can see past Ray to the front of the bus. “Bob, you’d better not be eating my veggie dogs. I’ve been saving them.”

“Those things aren’t even edible,” Bob says back, scorn for Frank’s veggie dogs apparent in each word. “I wouldn’t even touch them with your mouth.”

“That makes no sense,” Frank says, looking toward Ray for validation. “Tell him that makes no sense, and there’s nothing wrong with veggie dogs.”

Ray brings up his hands, warding off Frank’s protest with a strategic retreat into the bathroom before he’s pulled into yet another prolonged veggie vs meat sausage conversation.

“It would make sense if Frank’s mouth had dropped off and Bob needed it to eat.” It’s Mikey who’s talking and already Ray’s regretting his retreat, because what was he thinking? Now he’s entered a space that’s already too small, and is faced with Gerard sitting pantless on the toilet, Mikey on his knees between Gerard’s spread thighs. “Like, when the zombie apocalypse happens and Bob’s face starts to rot off”

“ _When_ it happens,” Ray says, taking solace in details as he deliberately looks away from Mikey and Gerard and focuses on a particularly grim stain on the wall. “Don’t you mean if? And why would Bob’s face rot off?”

“When, if, it’s all the same.” Mikey wiggles a little as if trying to get comfortable on the hard floor. “And because along with you and Frank he’ll be one of the last survivors, but will have got bitten trying to save me and Gee.”

“We’re the… wait. What?” As conversations go, this one isn’t even that unusual, but somehow Ray can’t keep up. Not when it’s this early, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Gerard pull in a harsh breath when Mikey peers down at his crotch. “You’ll be dead?”

“Both of us,” Mikey agrees, attention focussed as he carefully pushes at Gerard’s legs so they’re wider apart. “We’d die in the first day. Neither of us can run fast and we can’t really fight. We’d be toast.”

Which is true, Ray has to admit that, even as his heart speeds a little and he feels sick at their hypothetical death by zombie. “We’d save you. We wouldn’t let you die.”

“You’d try,” Mikey says, fingertips brushing against Gerard’s inner thigh. “But we’d die and then Bob would get bitten and his mouth would fall off and he’d have to use Frank’s instead.”

“Right.” Ray thinks he could argue against that situation somehow, and normally he would, but right now it’s taking all his attention to not stare at the Ways. Because how they look should be illegal with Mikey’s head bent and Gerard clenching his hands into fists as he pulls in a deep breath.

“Do it,” Gerard says then, his voice rough and Ray has to reach out for the wall to steady himself, the image in front of him burned into his brain in the millisecond he allowed himself to directly look. “Just do it now.”

“Okay.” Mikey brushes a kiss against Gerard’s inner thigh, and then straightens a little, moving his hands so his fingers are pressed against a suddenly exposed raised red pimple, the head shining and ready to be popped. “Doing it now.”

Mikey squeezes, and Gerard groans, and Ray nearly falls through the bathroom door in his haste to get away. Heart racing, and glad his bunk is so close as he almost throws himself into the space and closes the curtains.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck,” Ray says softly, because this is all kinds of wrong. His heart racing and his need to pee a distant memory he moves his hand, resting it over his dick and pressing, craving the pressure as he remembers Mikey on his knees and Gerard groaning above him.

~*~*~*~

“I’m just saying, aesthetically it would look amazing.” A dog-eared copy of _Watchmen_ open on his knee, Gerard frowns as he looks directly at Ray and then scrawls something down on a notebook. “You were meant for this kind of look.”

“You said that about the marching band uniforms, and the red and black outfits.” Not that Ray’s got anything against Gerard’s artistic vision, it’s just, it’s slightly unnerving to be the sole focus. “Not that I’m saying you’re wrong, I love your ideas. It’s just feels like visually you want fetish outfits on a small scale.”

“Not fetish, the world isn’t ready for me in a gimp mask, not yet anyway, but we could use the look a little,” Gerard says, solem at first, head tilted to one side as he thinks. Which is an interesting process to observe. Ray can almost see Gerard’s imagination firing up, visual images and themes taking shape as he grins and starts to frantically write. “Yes. Yeah. That would work, fuck yeah it would work. Screw masks and uniforms on stage, we need whips and chains. You’d look fucking amazing in leather. Mikey. Mikey come in here.”

“I didn’t mean….” Ray trails off, Gerard’s enthusiasm an almost physical force, pushing all potential objections aside as he carefully puts the comic book to one side and stands, eyes bright and shifting from foot to foot as Mikey appears from the back of the bus. 

Mikey blinks rapidly, hair a tangled mess and dressed in a t-shirt that must have originally belonged to someone at least a size smaller. Not that that’s anything unusual, Ray’s sure Mikey dresses himself from pilfered merch only, and if that fails, any clothes he finds lying around. Which is great, is fine, Ray’s all about saving some money, even if they could all buy themselves a new wardrobe a thousand times over. It’s just, the outfit is rather distracting when the t-shirt keeps riding up and Mikey’s all dark eyes and cocked hip as Gerard circles around him.

“Ray thinks we should big up the bdsm theme,” Gerard says, stopping still behind Mikey. “I’m thinking leather and chains, Bob wielding a whip from his riser. And a collar, yeah, you’d look fucking amazing in a collar.” In demonstration, Gerard steps forward, fitting his body against Mikey’s and wraps his hand around his neck.

Ray swallows, any protest drowned by feelings of _want_ as he takes in the way Gerard’s fingers are pressed around Mikey’s neck, digging in slightly, Mikey making a soft sound as he tilts back his head, his eyes closed as he rests against Gerard. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Gerard says, voice breathy and doing all sorts to fuck with Ray’s head as he’s forced to sit and watch Gerard turn his head so he can talk directly in Mikey’s ear. “You’d look amazing. I’m thinking a leather collar, with a tag saying who you belong to.”

“I’d like that.” Mikey exhales, leaning against Gerard, trusting him to hold his weight as he adds, “I’d want your name on that. Or Ray’s.”

It takes Ray a moment to take in what Mikey’s just said, but when he does it feels like his heart stops in chest. Too hot and skin itching, he tries to think past the pounding in his head as he stares at the Ways, both of whom are staring right back. As visual images go it’s powerful, Ray turned on so quickly his hand twitches at the need to drop to his cock. 

Which he won’t do, because Ray’s not so far gone he’s about to start jerking off in public, even if Mikey and Gerard are standing looking like Ray’s wet dream brought to life. 

“I’m just….yeah.” Sure he’s being blatantly obvious -- and how can he not be when he feels so overheated, his hand ineffectively attempting to conceal his crotch, Ray makes for his bunk. And yeah, he knows that jerking off to two brothers is seedy and wrong, especially when they’ll be only meters away. But better that than staying here where it’s inevitable he’ll come in his pants.

“Don’t be too long,” Gerard says, totally serious as he whispers something directly in Mikey’s ear and then adds, “We need to talk about the collars more. Or a chain. Hell, yeah. A chain, that would look fucking amazing. Just think about it, tight around his neck, perfect to hold onto.”

Ray gulps, hating his imagination as he pictures the scene, hands already on his belt buckle as he barges into the bathroom and closes the door.

~*~*~*~

“Jesus, get a room already.”

Curious about what has caused Frank’s comment, Ray tries to look past him into the greenroom, and instantly wants to backtrack. Already tired from a round of press interviews, all Ray wants to do is take half an hour to eat and maybe catch a quick nap. Instead he’s being led into a tiny room, where Bob has commanded the sofa while Mikey and Gerard are squashed into an easy chair that surely wasn’t designed to fit two grown men.

“You’ve got brothers, do you sit with them like that?” Frank asks, the question caught between serious and amused as he stares at the Ways. “Maybe that’s what brothers do, I wouldn’t know.”

“They really don’t,” Bob says, briefly looking up from his phone as he shifts his feet, leaving a tiny space on the end cushion. “Those two are just weird and co-dependant.”

“You’re just jealous.” Gerard waves away the comment and turns the page of the comic book that’s open over his and Mikey’s laps. “I’m sure Ray shares seats with his brothers all the time.”

“We’ll sit on the same sofa,” Ray agrees, but that’s where the similarities stop. Because while Ray loves his brothers, and has no issues with hugging or sitting close, that’s different to this. Where Gerard’s got his head resting on Mikey’s shoulder, Mikey’s leg hooked over Gerard’s ankle, pressed together from head to toe. “But not….”

“Like those two codependent idiots,” Bob says firmly, as if the issue has been decided. “I’m surprised they don’t take a piss together.”

“We do sometimes,” Mikey says, seemingly unconcerned that he’s agreeing to anything unusual. “We had to when we were growing up, why stop now?”

Bob stares, kicking at Frank when he lands heavily in the gap left on the couch. “Because going to the bathroom should be private.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Gerard says, hand hovering over the page as he turns his full attention to Bob. “I’ve seen everything Mikey’s got, I’ve seen him piss and shit more times than I can count. If we do it at the same time what’s the problem?”

“So, when you say at the same time, do you mean you piss in the bowl together?” Frank asks, getting himself comfortable in the small space and deliberately resting his legs over Bob’s. “Like, do you stand having dueling streams or are we talking one in the bowl and one in the sink? Because if it’s that that’s fucking disgusting.I brush my teeth at that sink.”

Gerard considers a moment. “Mostly the first, but sometimes it’s side by side not duelling. You know, when I need to give a hand.”

“Give a hand?” Ray hates himself for asking for clarification, already knowing the answer is going to hit him right in the dick. How can it not when he’s already half hard thinking about Mikey and Gerard in the bathroom, and really, how is this Ray’s life? Where not only is he apparently an incest loving pervert he’s going to add bathroom related turn ons as well. “Do you mean literally or….”

“Literally,” Mikey says, nonchalant as he explains. “Sometimes I used to get so wasted I couldn’t stand up straight, so Gee would prop me up and help me out by holding my dick. That way I wouldn’t piss on the floor. I’d do the same for him, too.”

“It sucks mopping piss off the floor,” Gerard says, face scrunching up as he moves his hand, resting it on Mikey’s inner thigh. “Especially in public bathrooms, god knows what’s on those floors. It was easier to prevent that shit in the first place.”

“I hope that’s not the start of a shitting story,” Bob says with a scowl. “Because I’ve already heard enough with your pissing.”

Ray has to agree, because this conversation needs to be shut down and pushed to the back of his mind, where he can unpack it in his head later in private. Not now when he’s got another few hours of interviews to get through. Though he suspects it’s already too late, when all he can think about is Mikey and Gerard together, hands on each others dicks as they pee.

“Not literally, no. Though if needed.” Gerard shrugs, wiggling so he’s even closer to Mikey and seemingly lost in thought as he says. “Peeing though, it’s not a thing. It’s nice. Intimate.”

“What are you reading?” Ray asks, breaking in before Frank can voice his inevitable questions and demand clarifications. “Anything good?”

“Watchmen still.” Gerard blinks and holds up the comic book so Ray can see. “We’ve been getting inspiration.”

Surprised,Ray rests his hand on the back of the sofa, dizzy as his thoughts are catapulted from bathrooms back to chains and leather outfits. “I thought you’d shelved that idea?”

“Postponed it, but now we know we’re doing the song for sure I’m back at it,” Gerard says, turning a few pages at random. “I don’t think we can do your fetish idea, but I still like the leather, denim and chains.”

“This shit is your fault?” Bob sits so he can scowl at Ray. “What the hell were you thinking? He wants me to wear leather pants. Do you know how much I’ll sweat wearing those? My inner thighs would be fucked.”

“It’s got nothing to do with me,” Ray protests, frustrated that these ideas are being brought up again when he’s finally been able to keep thoughts of the Ways and chains firmly locked up in his head -- at least mostly. The few times he’s indulged and raided his spank bank surely don’t count. “I’d be happy doing a video where we’re just performing the song.”

“And that’s exactly what we would do.” Animated, Gerard sets down the comic and pushes himself up on one hip, twisting so he’s half sitting on Mikey’s lap. “A live action show set in the _Watchmen_ world, we’ll look fucking amazing.”

“Says you, you won’t have to be stuffed into your outfit,” Frank says, his prior amusement all but gone as he rests his hands on his stomach. “Leather and denim isn’t flattering for fat-asses.”

“You’re not fat, and you’ll look great,” Ray says instantly, and he knows that Frank will. No matter how far out the concept, Gerard always makes them look good. It’s just, Ray doesn’t think he’s got the endurance to survive days of shooting if Mikey actually does wear a collar and chain -- or, in fact, the supplies of lube to get through the weeks worth of buildup. 

“You’ll look fucking amazing,” Mikey agrees, hooking his arm around Gerard’s waist, holding him close. “We all will, and I’ll enjoy wearing a collar and chain.”

“And I’ll enjoy putting it on you,” Gerard says, ignoring Bob’s snort.

“Of course you will, but I’m still not wearing leather pants.” Apparently deciding the matter is settled, Bob reclines, kicking at Frank’s legs. “And you need to move already, I was comfortable.”

“You don’t have to wear leather pants,” Gerard says, and then, “Ray can wear them instead. He’d make them work. He’s got good thighs.”

“He’s got thighs of steel.” Mikey cranes his neck, seemingly trying to see Ray’s thighs despite him still standing behind the couch. “They’d look awesome in leather.”

Gerard nods, both Ways staring intently at Ray, taking him in in a way that leaves Ray feeling squirmy and off-balance. “Imagine him shredding in leather, you’d see everything. He’d drive the audience wild.”

“He’d drive _everyone_ wild,” Mikey says, bringing his hand to his neck as he swallows. “You should wear them, Ray.”

Ray tries to think of interviews and sound bites, the stench of old socks and a kiss from his grandma, anything but bathrooms and pissing, about collar chains and leather. It helps, but only a little, because no matter what he tries, the Ways are always there, strange and codependent, loving and giving, two of the best friends that Ray has had ever.

And the unwavering fact is, Ray wants them; badly. All he can say is, “I’ll think about it,” but doesn’t say about what. How can he when Gerard is beaming and Mikey giving him a thumbs up, both pleased with his answer. Oblivious to the fact that Ray’s the biggest pervert ever.

~*~*~*~

“We’ve been thinking about the video and want your opinion on something.”

More than anything Ray hopes that it’s a musical opinion Gerard is wanting, but deep down he knows that it won’t be -- his life just isn’t that easy. Steeling himself, he follows Gerard into his hotel room, any thoughts of a relaxing day off slipping away. 

It’s dim inside the room, the curtains half drawn and the bed and chairs covered in clothes that Ray knows should have been gathered together and sent off to laundry. Stepping over an open duffle bag, Ray pulls back the curtain, letting in light, relieved when he sees a rough storyboard pinned down on the desk.

At this point it’s little more than a vague idea, Gerard more sketching out potential scenes than anything concrete, and Ray begins to hope that he actually has been brought in for something constructive. 

“Is that a riot van?” Ray crouches, examining a sketch of a riot van and a sketched Gerard outside of it being held by someone big and faceless. “And is that you getting manhandled by some kind of monster?”

“A man not monster, but yeah,” Gerard says from outside of the room. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Well, sort of. I wanted to know what you thought about these.”

Ray looks up, and instantly regrets it when Gerard and Mikey walk out of the bathroom. Which is fine: what isn’t is the fact that Mikey’s wearing a collar, the leather soft looking and tight around his neck while Gerard has a short chain looped over his wrist, the links thick and sturdy.

“We’re not sure about collar only or adding the chain,” Mikey says, briefly looking at Ray he waits for a beat then kneels in front of Gerard.

Reverently, Gerard drapes the chain around Mikey’s neck, carefully adjusting and then pulling it tight so it’s snug over the collar. “We like both, what do you think? With the chain or without?”

Honestly, Ray isn’t capable of thought at the moment. All the blood has rushed to his dick and he feels light-headed, his mouth dry as he attempts to swallow and then force out an answer, that he blurts out without thinking. “I think you two together are the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life.”

Instrantly Ray regrets what he’s just said, saying the words out loud is blurring a line that he’s always kept solid. It’s letting fantasy bleed into reality, and Ray backs toward the door, needing to escape before he sees the disgust directed his way.

“Ray, wait. Don’t go.” It’s Gerard who’s speaking, his hand on Mikey’s shoulder, both looking toward Ray. “We want you to stay.”

“You don’t need my opinion, it looks good, but I’ve things to do.” Ray keeps backing up, feeling small and wrong and flustered. “I’ll see you later.”

“Or you could see us now.” Standing, Mikey grips Gerard’s hand and squeezes, holding on as together, they head for Ray, stopping when they’re only inches apart. “Look at us, Ray.” Still hand in hand with Gerard, Mikey takes hold of Ray’s hand and brings it up to his neck, resting it over the collar and chain. “Look at what we want.”

Ray’s not stupid, but in this case he apparently is, because no way can Mikey mean what he’s implying. “You want each other? Because that’s….” Ray trails off, because convention says incest is wrong, but somehow for Gerard and Mikey that isn’t the case in the slightest. They’re brothers, yeah, but they’re also _Gerard and Mikey_ fitting together like they were never destined to part, two halves of the same whole and stronger together. This acknowledgement that they share more than sibling affection feels right, something always known but that’s simply never been stated. “That’s okay.”

“Good.” Gerard smiles, nothing flashy, just tender and small as he looks over at Mikey, bringing up their joined hands and kissing the knuckles before turning his attention back to Ray. “But Mikey didn’t mean that. Or he meant more than that. We want you.”

“I don’t understand,” and Ray doesn’t, because how can he fit with Gerard and Mikey who are already perfect together? There’s surely no room for Ray in the mix, except, despite his uncertainty, Ray knows that’s not true. As focussed as Gerard and Mikey are on each other, they’ve always left room for their friends. And apparently, for their potentially more than friends, too.

“We’ve been hinting forever,” Mikey says, pressing his hand over Ray’s, so all Ray can feel is leather and metal and soft skin. “Gerard said we’d have to be more obvious. But I didn’t think we could be any more obvious.”

“You could have blown me in front of him,” Gerard says, sounding delighted with the idea. “One of the times on the bus, but not when you were in the bathroom popping my zit. That hurt.”

“And was disgusting,” Ray says, flashing back to that scene in the bathroom, which really was disgusting, at least, once the zit came into play. Before that was good, better than good in fact, and Ray’s body reminds him of that fact.

Head tilted to one side, Gerard studies Ray. “What are you thinking about? Have we gone too far? We can back off. We’d still be friends. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Ray hastens to explain, hating that Gerard may be getting the wrong idea. “I was remembering that time in the bathroom, it was disgusting, but not at first. Before. I liked seeing Mikey on his knees.”

“Yeah, I like that, too,” Gerard says, intent as he pushes his fingertips under the edge of Mikey’s collar and tugs gently. “We can do that again, or something else. If you want to do something else that is, you don’t have to.”

Ray’s instant reaction is to say, hell yes, I want to do something, but he hesitates, all too aware that saying yes is going to change things completely. He’s not afraid about losing two friendships, but that doesn’t mean things couldn’t change for the worse if things ever go wrong -- and they could, Ray’s not naive enough to discount that. But at the same time, Ray wouldn’t be where he is now without taking chances.

It’s why he says, “I want to, yes.”

Gerard makes a pleased noise. His fingers still against Mikey's collar, he looks over shoulder at the bed that's strewn with clothes, the covers thrown back and tangled. "I need to tidy that up, Mikey will keep you company."

Thrown, Ray watches as Gerard brushes a kiss against Mikey's cheek and lets his hand drop before heading toward the bed, where apparently tidying up consists of gathering up all the clothes and throwing them into the corner.

"Impressive," Mikey says, taking a step toward Ray so they're standing side-by-side, their hands brushing together. "You'd get a position as a chambermaid any day."

"Chamber person," Gerard corrects, looking over his shoulder and grinning as he tugs at the covers, half-heartedly pulling them straight. Gerard's smile is familiar, something that will forever be burned into Ray's brain, and as always, Ray can't help smiling right back.

"You've been watching us," Mikey says then, changing the mood and curling his hand so he can link his fingers with Ray's, holding on tight when Ray feels the instinctive urge to pull back. 

"Don't. It's okay. We like you watching."

It's not a surprise in some ways. Gerard's always been an exhibitionist, but usually only on stage, while Mikey tends to shine in the company of family and friends, when he lights up and commands constant attention. But this. This is something different, something new and unexpected, Ray floundering a little as he tries to discover his place. It feels wrong somehow to admit what he's been doing, but at the same time, he knows that admittance won't result in any censure: the complete opposite in fact.

Ray swallows, and says, "I did like watching. Do like watching."

"Good." Still holding on, Mikey pulls Ray forward, heading toward the bed that's now empty of clothes, and also any pillows, that have somehow all ended up thrown on the floor. "Because we really do like you watching, and joining in if you want."

Gerard sighs, shaking his head a little as he looks from Mikey to Ray. “You're getting impatient.”

“Because we’ve been waiting forever,” Mikey protests, then takes a deep breath and holds up his hands. “But fine, slowing down.”

“Good,” Gerard says, fond and approving before turning his attention solely on Ray. “We'll go at your pace, and if you just want to watch this time that's fine."

"I think, yeah." Ray's happy with his decision, while he's not adverse to trying other things, this situation is already new and slightly confusing, and it's not like Ray's unhappy to watch. "Do you want.... should I sit down? Or stand?"

"Whatever makes you comfortable," Mikey says, the etiquette of voyeuristic, incestuous threesomes apparently not throwing him at all. "But the bed would be good if you want to a good view."

"Okay, right." Decision made, Ray sits heavily on the bed, glad of the support when Mikey lets go of his hand and turns to Gerard.

Despite both being fully dressed, the moment seems intimate, charged with emotion as Mikey reaches out, and rests the back of his hand against Gerard’s cheek before softly, moving his hand down, trailing over Gerard’s neck and onto his chest. Mikey stops then, gaze locked with Gerard's, as if in this moment, nothing matters but each other.

Ray stares, unable to look away, his breathing shallow, any noise seeming wrong, as if it would fracture this moment.

“I'm glad you said yes," Gerard says, talking to Ray, but attention totally on Mikey as he presses his hand over Mikey's, keeping it still, and Ray can imagine their heartbeat, in sync and connected in a way Ray feels privileged to witness.

"But you should have said yes sooner," Mikey says, breaking the spell as he leans in, pressing a kiss against Gerard's mouth, something teasing, more a promise of what could come later. "We've been waiting forever."

"We have," Gerard agrees, biting back a gasp when Mikey suddenly drops to his knees, so he can look up at Gerard. Instantly, Gerard brings his hand to Mikey's head, fingers tangling in his hair as Gerard tugs and says, "Impatient. Ray might want some build-up."

"Fuck the build-up, we can do a strip tease next time." Even so, Mikey stills, breathing hard and eyes downcast until Gerard lets go. When he does so, Mikey looks across to Ray and asks, "Do you want build-up?"

What Ray wants is everything. He wants slow and teasing, fast and furious. He wants to see everything these two will give, but all he can manage to do is shake his head slightly as he says, "Anything. I want anything."

Mikey looks up at Gerard, hands going to Gerard's belt, satisfied as he says, "Ray wants anything."

"Fine, fine. The strip-tease can happen next time." Not that Gerard sounds disappointed, just the opposite in fact as he stares at Ray, watching his reaction as Mikey curls his fingers over the waistband of Gerard's pants and underwear. "I guess he'll just have to see your cock-sucking skills this time."

Ray's heart speeds up at the words, and he feels off-kilter again, his senses overwhelmed, the sound of metal against metal as Mikey unbuckles Gerard's belt. The slight hint of sweat, how Gerard looks as he pulls in a breath. His eyes closing and mouth slightly parted as his belt falls open and Mikey rests his fingertips on Gerard's lower stomach, as if grounding himself via touch before moving his hands. Confident as he hooks his fingers over the double material of Gerard's pants and underwear, teasing for a moment before pulling both down a few inches.

His hands flat, Mikey rests them over folded material, his thumbs extended and pressed into the shadow of Gerard’s legs and groin, his finger-tips over stretched-out elastic. Breathing in deeply before pushing down again.

“Fuck,” Ray swallows as Mikey leans in, forehead resting against Gerard's stomach, as Gerard wiggles out of t-shirt, throwing it so it lands on the pile in the corner of the room.

Naked apart from his pants and underwear pooled around his feet, Gerard should look awkward as he sways a little, trying to keep his balance. But he doesn't, he looks solid and graceful, all beautiful lines and confidence, his breath hitching when Mikey kisses his stomach, head lowered, his hands on Gerard's thighs, holding on as he dips his head further.

Ray's unable to look away, and he's sure Mikey's going to take Gerard's cock into his mouth, but he doesn't, not yet. Instead he rests his cheek on Gerard's inner thigh, blowing softly, mouth pursed, teasing for a long moment before changing things up, nipping at the crease of Gerard's groin and thigh, teeth digging in slightly, stopping only when Gerard grinds out his name, hands clenching for purchase.

"Mikey."

At the sound of Gerard saying his name, Mikey straightens and then moves his head, dragging his cheek along Gerard’s cock.

“Mikey,” Gerard gasps again, the name rough and drawn as, finally, Mikey takes him into his mouth.

Barely able to contain his own groan, Ray has to touch his own cock, pressing down, needing the pressure before he can fumble his own belt open, hands shaking as he finally gets the buckle undone and can shove his hand down the front of his pants, torn between looking at Mikey, how his cheeks are hollowed out as he sucks, his mouth wet and eyes closed, or at Gerard, who's barely holding it together, hands shaking as he grips Mikey's shoulders, flushed and pulled tight as he fucks Mikey's mouth.

Ray wants to get closer, he wants to touch and be touched. But right now he does neither, all he does is palm his own dick, relishing the drag and burn, until even that's not enough. Pulling his hand free Ray spits in his palm, desperate as he takes hold of himself once again, grip tight and relentless, matching Mikey and Gerard's rhythm as easy as always.

"You look fucking amazing like that," Gerard says, somehow able to form words, which Ray would be impressed with, but right now he's too caught in the moment, building up to release as Mikey keeps sucking and Gerard takes hold of the chain and pulls, his attention completely on Ray at the time.

It's too much. It would always be too much, and without warning, Ray's pushed over the edge, coming over his own fist as Mikey gasps, his fingers digging into Gerard's thighs, shivering as Gerard thrusts one last time and then stills.

"Fuck." It's all Ray can say, he feels wrung out and crumpled, barely able to believe what's just happened, but he has to. He's got no choice when Mikey pulls back, still fully dressed but all swollen mouth and flushed cheeks, Gerard's hand on his shoulder as Mikey says, "So, next time a strip-tease?"

All Ray can do is say, "Yes."


End file.
